Between The Lines
by YoshiSkittlez
Summary: "I know. Magic always comes with a price. But if Mother's death taught me anything, it's that sometimes... a hero has to sacrifice everything to save the people they love. And I will do whatever I can to save our land and I can be a hero just like mother and if that means summoning Rumpelstiltskin, then so be it."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own any characters, ideas, actors, or anything to do with Once Upon a Time. If I did, I would be writing for them, or more importantly, giving myself a role to be able to kiss on Robert Carlyle and have it be perfectly acceptable :) **

**In all seriousness...I have nothing but the deepest respect for Emilie de Ravin and Robert Carlyle and am in no way trying to tarnish their image with this fic, this is solely for entertainment purposes. Thank you.**

**Author's Note:**

**Welcome fellow Oncer's! I thought that during my time in putting together Book 2 of my epic 'what if' series without Emma's existence, I would take a crack at my own Rumbelle story in the meantime. They are my favorite pairing after all. Anyway, the inspiration behind this story is that I've read quite a few Rumbelle fics on here, but not once have I seen one that explained what happened during the time that we see off screen.**

**We've all seen 'Skin Deep' (and hell, if you're like me you've probably memorized it!) and we've all tortured ourselves with watching 'Lacey' over and over for the small snippet of time that happened with (a very different) Robin Hood when Belle was still at The Dark Castle. But what I want to know is what else happened in between those times? **

**Thanks to 'Family Business' we now know that it was Belle's idea to summon Rumpelstiltskin to save their Kingdom from the Ogre Wars, and going back to 'Skin Deep' we know that Rumpelstiltskin received a message but what we don't know is by who. Did Maurice get over his fears and write to The Dark One himself? Or did Belle go behind her father's back and write to him, telling Maurice only after the letter had already been sent?**

**Well this is one question out of many that I will be answering (it may be my opinion, but in my years of theater and character study I feel that I have a good enough grasp on the characters and their behaviors to keep this as canon as I possibly can) so get settled in, grab some popcorn (and possibly some tissues) and let's begin…**

**Between the Lines**

**XXX**

_"The war is not going well. But you need not worry of such things, we have soldiers to fight."_

_"Those soldiers don't stand a chance! They'll only slow down the Ogres' advance! I- We need someone who can stop them once and for all!"_

_"And who would that be?"_

_"On my journey... I did some reading and... well... there's a wizard. A powerful, powerful wizard who may just help us. His name is-"_

_"I know his name! And I dare not speak it! Trust me Belle, if we do-"_

_"I know. Magic always comes with a price. But if Mother's death taught me anything, it's that sometimes... a hero has to sacrifice everything to save the people they love. And I will do whatever I can to save our land and I can be a hero just like mother and if that means summoning Rumpelstiltskin, then so be it."_

**XXX**

Agitated, the high princess of Avonlea crumpled up another piece of parchment paper and tossed it across the room in the overflowing waste bin.

_How does one even address Rumpelstiltskin in something like this?_ She thought to herself as she tucked a stray strand of her chestnut brown hair back behind her ear. _Books can be so unclear sometimes..._

With a light huff, she reached across the large pile of books that had been accumulating on her desk over the last few days and picked up the one on top, pulling it in front of her and opening it to the page bookmarked with a light blue silk ribbon. The pages were thin and yellowed, curling up at the corners from their age but it somehow weathered the wear and tear of Belle's reading it over and over from the time she had picked it up in Arendelle three days ago.

It was by pure chance she happened upon this book before returning home. As she waited patiently at the harbor for her ship back to Avonlea, a small stall of ancient books caught her attention at the market and she couldn't help but to take a look. The woman who had sold it to her was pleasant enough, as seemed to be everyone else she came across in Arendelle. She would have liked to go back and visit this wonderful land again if it hadn't created such a sense of overpowering guilt in her heart. She was only too eager to leave and return home.

It seemed wherever she went, tragedy followed. It had only been a week since her mother's passing and although Belle believed that the trip to the Rock Trolls would have helped to dull the pain (both being away from Avonlea and finding out what had happened during her blackout) it only seemed to make that hole in her heart even bigger, more raw with now the fate of another person's life on her conscious. Anna had proved to be a true friend, offering to take her to the Rock Trolls when no one else could. She was such a sweet girl... if only she had taken better care of that rock... if only she could have gotten to Anna in time...

It was unclear if the bouncy, pig-tailed girl was dead. It _was_ possible to survive a fall from that height, Belle had fallen from enough library ladders grasping for an unreachable book to know that for herself. But with Anna now gone; taken by her own aunt with some sort of ice magic, it was impossible to know the fate of her friend for sure, and that bugged Belle more than anything else.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Belle forced her eyes to read over the same text she had memorized long ago. She had read it twice on her journey home, and five times more since she had arrived home two days ago. The passage on Rumpelstiltskin was very short and very vague, alluding only the true name of The Dark One which, supposedly was a start as every other book she had been able to read up on him in the meantime only mentioned him as The Dark One, The Dealmaker, The Trickster, The Liar...the list of names went on.

No book, however, despite her extensive search in her father's library, could shine any light on the matter of how one _summons_ Rumpelstiltskin. Nor did any book tell of where he lived or of any solid proof that he truly existed for that matter. For all Belle knew, he was nothing but a story that parents told their children to, in hopes that they could at least scare them into behaving. She couldn't afford to think like that though; she _needed_ Rumpelstiltskin, more than anything right now.

There was a thundering roar that could be heard in the distance, causing Belle to look up from the book and out her window. She was unable to see the battle that was raging on leagues away but she didn't have to see it to know that it was going badly. News reached her father's castle daily with reports that were less than pleasant to hear. As much as she tried to forget it, she had seen the power of an Ogre before, and she knew what they were capable of. The sky was painted red with the blood of her father's soldiers; she knew what she was talking about when she told her father that they didn't stand a chance. Time was running out, they needed Rumpelstiltskin, despite what her father said against the matter.

He had been less than willing to listen to reason when she had first told him about her idea of summoning Rumpelstiltskin. He was weary of magic and he had every right to be. Magic in this land was less than kind and from his stern response so quickly on the matter, Belle could gather that something tragic had happened in her father's past, something to do with magic or perhaps Rumpelstiltskin himself, but what her father failed to realize is that they had no other choice. She would find a way to summon Rumpelstiltskin. In the case of her father, it was much better to ask for forgiveness than permission. This was her price to pay.

Closing the book rather abruptly as nothing new in the text had revealed itself, Belle coughed and sputtered as a thick cloud of dust flew up from the ancient pages followed by a sneeze. Shaking her head, she placed the book back at the top of the pile and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment.

_To hell with formality. Either he will help us or he won't!_

Belle picked up the feather quill once more and dipped it into the ink well before scrawling out a short message explaining her lands plight. She refused to even re-read the message to herself this time before she folded it up and sealed it tight with her father's wax seal.

Rising from her bedroom writing desk, Belle hurried over to the bay window and threw it open, pleased to find the carrier pigeon she had coaxed earlier had remained there like a little soldier awaiting orders. It seemed everyone in Avonlea was willing to do their part, no matter how small.

She took great care in attaching the letter to the birds leg and scooped up the pigeon into her hands, doing what she could to make eye contact with the animal as if that would somehow help to hammer in the importance of this message, but the bird's head wobbled around like a child's wind-up toy, and the effort went in vain. Finding the feat to be impossible, she sighed and instead spoke out loud to it, as if it were a person.

"Take this to Rumpelstiltskin."

With no sort of acknowledgement from the bird, all Belle could do was suck in a breath as she tossed the two-pound creature up into the air and watch as it took flight into the east. Only then did Belle realize how tired her body had become, having stayed up throughout the entire night to write the letter. The rising sun made it hard to keep track of the small bird, but as stubborn as she was, Belle watched until the bird became nothing but a black dot on the horizon and even after it had vanished from sight, she kept watching... waiting... hoping...

**XXX**

_Rumpelstiltskin,_

_I fear the Kingdom of Avonlea is fighting a losing battle in what I believe to be the second Ogres War. Countless innocents have lost their lives and I humbly turn to you for help. With every moment the Ogres draw closer. We are dying. My father is of noble blood, he will pay you handsomely for your services provided of course you hold up your end of the deal. Please Rumpelstiltskin, won't you help us?_

The letter was left unsigned, but The Dark One didn't care much for names at this current moment. He was in much too foul of a mood to care for _any_ of the letters he found stacked upon his writing desk that evening, and knew before the day was out at least ten more letters of pitiful blubbering would find its way to that stack for him to sift through.

This particular letter, however, seemed to give The Dark One pause as he lifted it back up from the writing desk and read it over a second time. It had to of possibly been the shortest letter he had ever received over the last few centuries, but it was precise and to the point. He couldn't help also but to notice the loopy words strung together neatly that he was able to determine immediately as the penmanship of a young woman, not old as the ink would have smudged and shook upon the parchment. This he only knew from experience.

Avonlea.

Rumpelstiltskin had run the name of the small kingdom through his head at least a couple dozen times already, but found no particular interest in the land, or its residents. There was nothing there for him, no object or favor he needed to reclaim what had been lost to him, and the promise of gold in return for his services was nothing short of laughable. Truly, this foolish girl knew nothing of him.

No, if he were to answer this call he would barter up for something else in return but with nothing there in Avonlea he _needed, _it all seemed rather pointless. Of course he knew of the nobleman this foolish girl spoke of in the letter, some would even go as far to say Maurice was a king but again, Rumpelstiltskin found that laughable. He was of noble blood, yes, but a king? Hardly.

Avonlea was such a small kingdom, if one could call it that. A land so worthless, so remote from everything else, not even King George or King Midas bothered to fight over whose side of the land it truly rested on to claim for their own. So Maurice was left with a false Kingship, and within the few... brief moments Rumpelstiltskin had spent with the man, he knew the faux King relished every minute of it, as truly as if it were legit.

Setting the letter aside with disinterest amongst the sea of unopened ones, Rumpelstiltskin descended the spiral stone staircase of the tower and shortly found himself in the Dining Hall. With a quick flourish of his right hand, the candelabras lining the cold, stone walls lit to life and with a quick snap of his fingers, a fire began to crackle in the stone hearth to his left. He felt nothing for the cold of his castle, but the flickering lighting and quiet sputters from the fireplace always seemed to bring him some small amount of comfort, able to pull his mind from the present and leave it in a place where he had once been happy.

Pulling out the single leather chair that sat at the head of the polished wooden table, Rumpelstiltskin took a seat and rested his bony elbows onto the table's wooden surface. Steepling his hands together just under his chin, his dead eyes peered over the top of his fingertips at the lone spinning wheel towards the corner of the room.

It was there that just this morning during a rather aggravated spinning session, he had decided to venture to Arendelle himself and see if he couldn't convince the annoying pig-tailed girl to return the Sorcerer's hat to him. He wasn't sure exactly how though, since she had commanded him with the power of his own dagger to not hurt her or her sister, but there were other ways of getting what he wanted without inflicting pain; they just took more time but it seemed he had all the time in the world right now. Regina was being less than cooperative. Though, having such a powerful object in the hands of such a stupid young girl put him on edge. He had to keep track of that hat, no matter what. And so, after adorning his favorite dragon-skinned coat and abandoning the knotted threads of gold on the spinning wheel, he was off to Arendelle without even so much as a plan and a couple strands of golden straw clasped in his hand.

He couldn't have been more surprised to find that all hell had broken loose by the time he had arrived, but the moment his eyes fell upon a familiar face he knew that perhaps... not _all_ was lost after all. Watching Ingrid manipulate the pig-tailed girl into entrapping her own sister inside a magical urn had been most amusing, and upon offering a trade - the urn for the hat - he was sure that he would be getting what he wanted. It seemed, however, that wouldn't be the case and he was forced to return with a memento he hadn't the slightest amount of interest in.

Not even home from Arendelle for fifteen minutes now and his mind was already drifting back to the urn he had stashed away in his vault before going to read over the letters. Now just what the hell was he supposed to do with a temperamental Ice Queen trapped inside a cheap decoration piece until Ingrid came to her senses and traded him back the Sorcerer's hat? His knowledge on the urn was minimal at best, but if it was something Ingrid was so intent on having, he would have to make sure to take a look into it later. Perhaps there could be something more he could pull from The Snow Queen when she finally came around to retrieve it, or better yet, information he could use against her. He would have to check around and see if he had a book on it.

The Dark One would have had quite the expansive collection of books if he had ever gotten around to organizing them. There wasn't even a separate room in which to keep them in, despite the large castle he resided in. It wasn't by any means because there was no room, he just had better things to do than to organize the books into a library; he was able to find what he wanted in his organized chaos, so there was no need.

Instead with every new book he obtained it only added to the piles of books in every room in the castle, unsorted and ungrouped merely collecting dust. Most of these books he had collected over the many passing years in deals as a petty price when they had nothing else he would want. He had no use for those books, but he never came out of a deal without anything to show for it. There _were_ books, though a select few, that he had gone great lengths to have in his possession. Spell books, ancient tomes, anything that could help to increase his knowledge on who and what he was, magic, and how to gain more power. And then of course there was the most recent book he had wriggled out of The Evil Queen's grasp to finish his collection on more... potent poisons that the common person wouldn't normally stumble across. Regina had a hard time parting with it, but her desire for blood lust won out in the end and the deal was made.

His relationship with The Evil Queen was... interesting to say the least. He had known her before she had even been born, courtesy of his precognition which he had learned to be... content with as of late. Then there was also the... ever more interesting relationship he had with her mother who Rumpelstiltskin would rather _not_ think about at the present moment.

He watched Regina grow from afar over the years, pleased as the young, doe-eyed girl blossomed into the true, heartless witch he had every hand in shaping with tight control and when the time was right, The Dark One had taken her under his wing, forming a close - friendship wasn't quite the word - but a close understanding of one another. Carefully disposing of Cora, her mother, only helped Regina become more powerful, much to his approval. She had finally accepted the darkness into her heart and let it control the magic for her.

Yes, Regina was everything he had hoped she would be and more, and with Cora out of the way there was nothing to stop her from getting what she truly wanted. She posed no true threat to him personally or his power, but that wasn't to say she didn't try his patience on more than a few occasions, becoming quite a royal thorn in his side. Especially now as of late when it came to the matters of her step-daughter, Snow White. Regina had finally come to her boiling point and sent her huntsman out for the princess' heart. Of course the man couldn't do it, everyone in the kingdom adored darling Snow, and the stag heart the huntsman had brought back to Regina had only spiked her anger into something exceptionally deadly, letting Rumpelstiltskin know that the games had finally begun.

Going to such great lengths to bring an end to someone's happiness for spilling a secret a handful of years ago seemed a bit... over the top, but if that's what got Regina's blood hot, then so be it. He didn't need his ties so close to Regina anymore, and so he became less interested in her affairs, and more on his own despite her fit-filled protests. He needed that rage that The Queen was slowly letting surface, and so he stopped heeding her calls, forcing Regina to seek out her answers elsewhere. So she began praying on oblivious other kingdoms to get what she wanted, off-handedly starting more than a few wars in between at her brash behavior for the capture of Snow White, now appropriately named the Bandit Princess.

Despite his best efforts to remain _out_ of the royal squabbles with the targeted kingdoms, The Dark One was unceremoniously thrust _back_ into them at the most inconvenient of times. King George had quickly called to him the moment the life of his son, Prince James, was lost. Wherever the king got the idea that The Dark One could raise the dead, Rumpelstiltskin had no idea, but it was amusing to say the least to drag along King George in hope, only to reveal that bringing back the dead was even beyond his powers, but instead he could procure James' twin brother to slay that meddlesome dragon that he may or may not have had a hand in placing in King Midas' kingdom.

It was an easy enough deal to make; a dragon slayer for the Golden Fleece King George had to obtain from King Midas. The two bone-headed kings had been friends for years until King Midas realized he had a dragon problem. Trade was quickly cut off, and King George's kingdom suffered the hardest for it since Regina had also cut off trade with him by his own request, but King George had bit his tongue with the idea that his new son would be able to bring peace to the kingdoms again once his soldiers killed the beast that caused this whole mess and the shepherd would take the glory. Rumpelstiltskin knew it would be more than that, though, as King Midas was eager to marry off his daughter to the bravest man in the kingdom... who better than a false prince-turned-hero? Of course, the shepherd wouldn't settle for anything less than true love, this Rumpelstiltskin knew long ago, and then the deals would really start rolling in...

All these matters and more only seemed to give Rumpelstiltskin a headache, wishing that it could just be as easy as incinerating them all on the spot and doing everything himself. How Maurice and his tiny little kingdom of Avonlea missed being in the crossfire between King George and King Midas' trade problem was beyond him, but now it seemed that Avonlea hadn't gone without its own troubles, as now they were being attacked by Ogres.

Ogres! Really, as if The Dark One could spare ANY more time in ANY of these matters! Maurice and his entire kingdom should just be left to die, save him the headache of being misinterpreted by either of the other kings as 'interfering' in showing favoritism towards one side. No, that little girl and her letter-

_Gods!_

How Rumpelstiltskin's mind had wandered _back_ to that letter he had received from Avonlea not moments ago was beyond him. He had gone to great lengths to forget all about it and yet, here he was, back to square one. It was strange; there was no need for him to ponder on such matters that meant nothing to him. It wouldn't be the first time he let an entire kingdom fall, and he hadn't even blinked an eye in his decision. So what was it about this letter that kept his mind returning to it?

Snarling, knowing that peace would be far from his mind now, the sorcerer magicked the letter back into his hand with a quick flick of the wrist, and read it over again.

Something in the letter intrigued him, enticed him even; that much was clear, otherwise he wouldn't be sitting there in his chair mulling over the letter for a third time. Maybe it was the handwriting, the naiveté behind the words, or perhaps he simply wished to watch the oafeous look on The King's portly face if he had decided to come and help, and force him to tremble at his feet.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand and pulled his eyes from the letter, staring blankly at the fire crackling in the hearth. There he went calling Maurice a king again, the same mistake made by so many others time and time again. King Maurice... it didn't even have a nice ring to it! The old man really was a fool.

The girl who had written the letter seemed to at least have enough sense to recognize this herself as she had spoken nothing of her father's crown, only that he was a nobleman... which was strange. Wouldn't a noblewoman jump at the opportunity of waving around her title as princess, despite it not being the technical truth? Titles seemed to be more important than life itself from his observations over the years during his deals with all those greedy royals. It was the very reason the last glimmer of hope for his happiness had been smashed to pieces when Cora had chosen nobility over him. Not that he could blame her really, he was nothing pleasing to look at and had nothing to offer for one so regal. He was a fool for allowing himself to think that she had once truly loved him. An utter fool.

The sound of crumpling parchment reached Rumpelstiltskin's ears, drawing him out of his somber reverie and back to the letter in his hand. He hadn't realized that while he was lost in his own thoughts, his two hands crumpled up the letter until it was almost beyond salvaging. Not that it mattered _too_ much; reading the letter three times in such a short amount of time helped him memorize the contents, but that didn't stop him from laying the parchment down on the table in front of him and attempting to smooth it down to rid the wrinkles he had caused.

A small gust of wind picked up in the chilly autumn air outside, seeping through the cracks of The Dark Castle. It would have gone unnoticed by the master of the castle if it hadn't been for the brief flickering of the candelabras keeping the room lit and the wind wafting a new scent from the letter to his pointed nose. Inhaling the foreign smell deep into his chest and feeling a tickling shiver running down his spine, Rumpelstiltskin had to wonder how it was possible he hadn't noticed this before.

Bringing the letter up to his nose, he sought out the smell again, separating the paper and ink aroma and finding only a faint trace of the brown sugar, vanilla and baked peach combination he could spend the rest of the night breathing in. A guttural growl emitted from his throat, goose bumps raising the tiny hairs on the back of his neck in a way that had nothing to do with the cold within the drafty castle.

There was no question that the intoxicating aroma belonged to the young woman who had written the letter... the little minx. The thought crossed the dark sorcerer's mind of heeding the letter _just_ to breathe in the scent of the girl as payment, since he hadn't a need for anything else the faux king could offer him. Though, he doubted his reputation of The Dark One would be helped in his favor if all he asked for in return was to smell the girl; all magic comes with a price and he had to make sure he drove that point across to Maurice. He had to find something more than just a few moments of his own sick aroma'd pleasure.

The Dark One smiled, his upper lip curling into an amused snarl over his ruined teeth as a deliciously evil idea came to his twisted little mind. He set the letter back down onto the table and used his free hand to wipe his finger along the wooden table, inspecting the pad of his finger of the dust. Keeping his smile, Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his finger and thumb together to dispel of the small mess, his suspicions now confirmed. Had it truly been that long since Zelena had taken her leave?

Rumpelstiltskin folded his hands back into his lap as he relaxed back into his leather chair, letting his eyes flutter closed as he allowed his mind to drift back to his apprentice-turned-caretaker. She was a different sort of crazy, that much was clear, but she had been... necessary. Meeting her nearly a year ago, it was the first time he had doubted his foresight ability. It wasn't very often The Dark One was caught off guard for that very reason, and yet he couldn't have been more surprised to learn that Regina was in fact _not_ Cora's first born as she had allowed him to believe on the better part of two decades.

He had taken Zelena up almost immediately as his apprentice, pleased with the raw power she already held within her and though she showed little control, she showed promise. There was no doubt that Zelena was further along in her training than Regina was. The selfish part of his mind wanted Zelena to be the one to cast the curse; it certainly would have been done a lot sooner than Regina... as he was still waiting on that. But he had to be sure, and that self-served test cost him the only woman who had enjoyed keeping his castle clean and cooking his meals.

Rumpelstiltskin quickly shoved an idea from his mind as soon as it came. He would never admit it to anyone, he hadn't even been able to admit it to himself, but the realization hit his gut harder than he thought possible as he finally began to accept the hard truth. He was lonely. He had always been lonely. Zelena wasn't the best company by any means, as she had found some strange fixation on him (more likely his power than him as a person), but the witch had been someone to talk to, someone to keep his mind from slipping into desolate madness. With her gone now, an emptiness had made itself known in his castle, something he hadn't ever noticed before in his time there. He wouldn't shudder away from the idea of having another caretaker... however this time, he would hold the magic lessons. The women he taught magic to tended to turn on him in one way or another.

So it was decided. He would travel to Avonlea first thing in the morning and pick himself up a new caretaker; the foolish girl who had been able to so callously call on him for help. _She_ would be the one to pay the price, the look on nobleman Maurice's face would be just too delicious to pass up, and as an added bonus, he'd be able to take in that wonderful smell anytime he pleased if it didn't get mixed in with all the other amorous aromas that would fill the castle once she learned how to bake properly for him.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled quietly to himself as he got up from his chair, eager with the idea like a child on the Winter Solstice getting ready to cut down a holiday tree. He grabbed the letter as he passed it by and paced himself over to the fireplace. No, he wouldn't go to Avonlea in the morning, he would go _now_. He wouldn't be able to sleep until this girl was locked tightly in his dungeon where the sound of her cries in being ripped from her home and family would soothe him to sleep...

_What the hell am I thinking?_

It had been such a good idea just a few seconds ago, but as he now braced himself against the stone mantle of the hearth, his mind began to cloud with doubt. The spinner who had been pushed back to the far recesses of his mind had come to front, pushing the demon of The Dark One away with something he could only place as guilt. The demon within, however, didn't scare so easily and locked the spinner back up in his cage to remain dominant in Rumpelstiltskin's mind once more, shunning the guilt and in its wake instead left doubt.

This... girl... she would only prove to be a royal pain in his side for sure. He would have to teach her manners, discipline, teach her to fear him. The idea was starting to lose more and more of its merit the more he thought on it and he had to pause to ask himself if he had the time to shape yet another woman to his particular needs. Regina had been utterly exhausting, Zelena a waste of time... he expected no less of this noblewoman.

He groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes and looked down upon the letter held in his hand; his lip twitching in disgust as the last few centuries suddenly wore down on him, reminding him of his age. No, it was a bad idea. He didn't need a caretaker... at least not this petty girl that would be more trouble than she was worth. Perhaps he would travel to The Frontlands instead and find a woman already shaped to his needs, one who was used to working for a master...

The scent of baked peaches, vanilla and brown sugar infiltrated his heightened senses once more, causing the sorcerer to feel a sudden tightness in his chest, finding that he utterly craved the scent. Rumpelstiltskin lowered his head in defeat, his hand tightening around the letter until it was crumpled up into a tight ball and threw it into the fire without hesitation. He watched the letter burn into nothing but ash, ridding himself finally of the pesky girl. His hand, now being free from the letter, remained in a tight fist however, his knuckles turning an ashen grey from the loss of blood as he silently cursed himself for lack of being able to make up his mind, already regretting burning the letter.

_Well... no harm in seeing what Maurice would be willing to part with I suppose... _He thought to himself, justifying the overpowering urge to travel to Avonlea that very moment despite the sun starting to sink below the horizon. His mind refused to even turn back to the girl. He was sure that this decision had nothing to do with her, how could it? He didn't even know her name. No, he burned that thought and so many others pertaining to the foolish child along with her pathetic letter. This was solely about Maurice and seeing what sort of turmoil he could stir up in the already crumbling kingdom.

Pushing himself away from the stone hearth, The Dark One stood up straight, squared his shoulders and with a snap of his fingers, a few new accents were added to his dress attire.

Firstly, a scarf made up of raven and black phoenix feathers draped over the shoulders of his dragon hide coat. Secondly, a black and golden threaded silk brocade adorning a snowflake broach in the center finished the subtle wardrobe change.

Rumpelstiltskin took a moment to adjust the broach, a reminder of his last deal that hadn't gone so well in his favor, a reminder that he _needed_ this deal to feed the demon starving for chaos. With a lazy flourish, he encased himself in a shroud of crimson smoke and with a sudden draft of wind blowing into the cracks of The Dark Castle, its master had vanished.

XXX

Belle was unaware that someone had entered her bedchamber until she felt a firm hand shaking her bare shoulder gently. She responded with a tired groan and attempted to turn her head to the other side to fall back asleep, only realizing that her neck had grown incredibly stiff, slowly bringing her out of her sleep.

"Wake up my girl. The Ogres draw nearer."

The rumbling voice of her father caused Belle's bright, cerulean eyes to pop open, reality settling in where her dreams lingered and in its wake leaving that heavy feeling of dread in her chest. Taking stock of her limbs splayed out underneath her at various awkward angles, Belle had realized that at some point, she had fallen asleep at her window as the sun was now setting in the west.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she watched the carrier pigeon fly off into the sunrise... perhaps some sort of twinkle of green or lightning flashing in the distance; something to allude that Rumpelstiltskin had indeed received her letter and was on his way. But it seemed it wasn't so, as was confirmed by her father's prominent features. He was worried, not angry. She had hoped that he would have been angry, had he been angry then that would have meant Rumpelstiltskin _had_ come.

Belle rose from the bay window, ignoring the stiffness she discovered not only in her neck, but arms and lower back as well from having slept in such an awkward position for so long. She refused to show her weakness in the presence of her father, however, and kept her chin held high though she did take a moment to adjust the golden sleeves resting just below her shoulders for some sense of propriety in front of the king.

"You have only but a moment to present yourself respectfully, with the Ogres drawing closer I fear we-"

Maurice was cut short as a slight tremor ran through the castle, causing Belle to teeter with her arms extended at a poor attempt to keep her balance before Maurice put a protective arm around her, keeping the both of them grounded until it passed. Father and daughter shared paled glances at one another as the realization set in. The Ogres had made it to Avonlea.

Throwing propriety to the wind, Belle and Maurice hurried out of Belle's bed chamber and briskly walked the long stone corridors of the castle, Maurice practically dragging Belle behind him with a firm hold on her wrist. Only until they reached the end of the hall did Belle realize where her father was taking her as they descended the spiral stone staircase to the second floor of the castle and did her best to keep up with his long strides as they headed towards the war room.

Belle thought for a fleeting moment to ask her father if she might pop into the library and quickly grab a few of her favorite books, there was no telling how long they would be barricaded inside, but as that had cost her mother's life not so long ago, she refrained and kept her mouth shut on the matter. What she couldn't hold her tongue on, however, was of what she had done; her father had every right to know that she had gone through and summoned Rumpelstiltskin to their aid. It wouldn't exactly be easy to explain if The Dark One had decided to pop in unannounced before she had a chance to talk with him about it.

"Papa..." Belle started, slowing down her gait as her father pushed onwards towards the doors that led to the war room.

"We're nearly there my girl, we'll be safe in the War Room." Maurice said without even so much as halting his step at his daughter's voice.

"Papa, please!" Belle extended her arm and caught her father by the wrist, catching his attention and stopped to face Belle, his opposite hand resting on the brass doorknob that would gain them entry to the War Room with a simple turn of his wrist. As he looked down upon his daughter though, a tightening began to form in his chest as he realized the difficulty Belle was having making eye contact with him. He had known of her mannerisms long enough to know that there was something she wished to say, but refrained in fear of being punished.

"What is it Belle? What has you troubled so?" He asked removing his hand from the door to place on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Belle in turn kept her cerulean eyes away from her father's as she looked upon his hand on her shoulder and instead brought it up to palm the side of her cheek, seeking comfort from him there for what she was sure would be the last in a very long time. How could he forgive her so quickly for going behind his back and doing the very thing he had deliberately told her was out of the question? But it was better to do it now, while they were alone, than with an audience she was sure was taking refuge in the War Room as well.

Feeling somewhat braver now with her father's warm hand upon her cheek, she took in a deep breath and met his eyes that were so very much like her own, though his didn't hold the sparkling tears welling at the bottom that threatened to spill at any moment as hers did.

"I've done it papa. I've summoned Rumpelstiltskin. I promised him gold, we have more than we need and-" She stated clearly, surprising herself that her tone remained unwavering and firm despite what she was feeling on the inside.

Maurice jerked his hand back from her as if her touch would poison him. His face noticeably paled from the otherwise red complexion and took a few tentative steps backwards, putting distance between them.

"Oh my girl..." Maurice replied, his voice shaky and uncertain, filled with the sorrow that Belle had also felt in her heart at his quick rejection. "What have you done?"

The grand double doors leading into the War Room suddenly burst open. Belle jumped a couple steps backwards in her surprise, grateful that the doors were designed to open into the room rather than out. Standing in the doorway, looking just as startled to see Belle and Maurice as they were to see him, was one of Maurice's guards, adorned in battle armor with a steel sword resting ready on his hip.

"M-m'lord, m'lady..." The guard stooped into a deep bow before gathering himself and cleared his throat loudly. "I was just assigned to go and search for you. We should be receiving news any moment now. Please, come inside."

Without even giving his daughter another look, Maurice nodded to the guard and hurried inside, leaving Belle standing out in the hallway biting at her lower lip in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"Highness?" The guard asked, seeing the distress on her face but Belle merely swallowed her emotions and followed her father inside the war room, keeping her chin held high.

A small amount of relief washed over Belle as she looked upon the familiar faces of those taking refuge in the war room. With her father and herself now residing inside there were eight of them altogether, each one she knew for as long as she had been a child.

It was hard to be certain from the chainmail and helmets they wore over their heads, but Belle was sure that the two guards stationed by the doors were Seamus and Oliver, guards Belle had come to trust with her life as they had always been there for her when curiosity had gotten the better of the princess and led her down some pretty dangerous paths. Recently, it had been Oliver who had been stationed to watching over Belle as she spent an afternoon in her library. Even in her heels on the highest rung of the ladder, the book had been_ just_ out of reach, but that didn't stop her from trying; leaning dangerously further and further until she had finally lost her balance. Had Oliver not been there, she surely would have had more than a sprained ankle to sit on for the next few days.

Seamus too hadn't gone without saving the princess' life. It was Seamus who had been first on the scene just a week ago when an Ogre had made its way inside the castle. Going by her father's word, Seamus had been able to pull Belle away while her mother shielded her daughter from the creature. Belle hadn't seen or been able to talk to Seamus since the endeavor, and as she looked upon him now she was still unsure if she was angry with him or eternally grateful. Part of Belle wondered what would have happened if Seamus had saved her mother first and Belle was left for the Ogre, perhaps things would have turned out differently...

Then there was Nicholas, her father's scribe that acted as a shadow to Maurice, documenting each and every little thing that happened within the king's reach. His tongue had been cut out as a child, a story Belle couldn't quite remember the details of as she had only been told once when she was a small child. She would have tried learning the story again if he hadn't been so short-tempered and ill-mannered each time she tried picking up a conversation with him. She supposed her father only put up with Nicholas because he wrote shorthand faster than anyone in the kingdom had ever seen.

Talking with Nicholas was the royal contractor, Bernie. He was busy showing off the small models of the kingdom laid out on the large map in the center of the room on a circular table, and even from her distance Belle could hear the man whining about the damage the Ogres were doing to the curtain wall he had spent years designing.

Talking with her father in the corner of the room were two men. Currently holding the king's attention was her father's royal adviser Joed. He was a tall, lanky man very well past his expiration date, in Belle's opinion though she'd never say it outright, and although he looked just as old back when Belle was small as he did now, his age refused to show in the way he carried himself, as if he too were king. Maurice signaled Joed with a wave of his hand that their conversation was over, and Joed quietly made his way over to Nicholas and Bernie to look over the war plans laid out on the map.

The second man who had been talking with Maurice stooped closer to the King as he spoke, so as not to be overheard by the others in the room. Belle didn't need to hear what they were saying to know that they were talking about her, Maurice's face read plainly as he spoke in hushed whispers to the priest, Frollo, his eyes continuously glancing over to his daughter with pain written so very clearly in them.

"Belle..." The soft baritone of her fiancé caught her off guard as his strong hand laced his fingers between hers. Pulling Belle from her thoughts, she turned to look at Gaston with a forced, half-smile and used her free hand to pat the top of his hand before pulling both hands away from his gentle hold.

"How-" Belle stopped to clear her throat, feeling it starting to crack already. "How bad is it?" She asked her betrothed, unable to look him in the eye for she was sure that he would see the fear and hurt welling up inside her.

Gaston didn't shy away from her subtle gesture that she didn't want to be touched and put both hands on her bare shoulders, holding them firmly there making his fiancé finally meet his eyes.

"We'll get through this. Somehow." The knight responded somberly, avoiding answering Belle's question altogether but it was what he didn't say that spoke volumes to the princess. Gaston's gaze moved with Belle's as she once again looked upon her father speaking to the priest. Furrowing his brows, Gaston turned back to Belle. "What are they being so secretive about?"

"Me." Belle said indefinitely, keeping her eyes on her father, showing him without words that she was unafraid of the consequences that would follow for summoning Rumpelstiltskin despite him saying no. "My kingdom is suffering. I did what anyone else with the right mind would do in the same situation." Belle looked away from her father at long last and made eye contact with Gaston, the pain and fear in her eyes mysteriously absent and instead replaced with nothing short of an iron will and determination. "I summoned The Dark One to come and help us. He should be here any minute."

"But he _won't_ be coming!" thundered her father's voice from across the room. He may have been talking privately with Frollo towards the back of the room, but the conversation his daughter held with Gaston didn't go unnoticed by him. Maurice excused himself from the priest's side and made his way over to the war map in the center of the room, shooing the others so that he might have room to look upon the map without feeling too crowded.

Belle held in an agitated sigh at her father's expense. As the only lady in the room, it was more important now than ever to act the part of the high princess, to set an example of what it was to be a woman and keep quiet without drawing any attention to herself. It wasn't easy, however. She was practically about to burst as a thousand or so different words begged to be said to her father, but saving her just in time was a small book she noticed clutched tightly in the Royal Adviser's hands. Tilting her head in curiosity, Belle tentatively made her way over to Joed and cleared her throat, gaining his attention.

"Highness?" Joed asked turning to her, a rather bored, blank expression on his wrinkled face. Belle jumped right to the point, unyielding as her eyes snapped straight to the book he held in his possession.

"Is that-?"

"Your mother's diary? Why yes, it is. I was given the task to bring it to you personally, as requested in her Majesty's will. However, it was rather hard to locate the high princess of Avonlea as she had decided to traipse around Arendelle for the better part of a week."

Belle ignored the bitter tone hidden amongst his rather languid words as Joed handed over the book to Belle. She accepted it with high reverence, letting her fingers ghost over the jade-blue felt cover, feeling a new wave of fresh tears stinging at the corner of her eyes.

"Th-thank you..." She whispered quietly, unable to find the right words to say to the Royal Adviser. Joed just grunted lightly in response before excusing himself to go and speak with the king once again. Belle didn't seem to notice however, as she was already opening up the pages and dove straight in to the words her mother had written when she had been alive just a few short days ago.

Lost in the pages of her mother's journal, Belle hardly even noticed the slight bustle in the room as Seamus and Oliver opened the barricaded door allowing a messenger inside. Realizing that he had news of the war battling just a short distance away, Belle closed the book up tight and held it to her chest, her eyes as everyone else's on the messenger as he pulled a small sheet of parchment from his parcel.

"Sir, there's news from the battlefield. Avonlea has fallen." The messenger looked up at the king, grave in the face and stricken with fear as he rolled the parchment back up and placed it back in his satchel.

"Oh, my gods..." Maurice wasn't sure how he was able to keep upright, feeling his knees growing weak at the news.

"If only he had come..." Gaston commented, his voice breaking the silence that had lasted a good while. This seemed to cause Maurice great distress as he barked angrily at Gaston,

"Well he didn't, did he?" Maurice abandoned his place at the head of the table where the map of Avonlea had been laid out and crossed the room. "Ogres. Are. Not. Men!" He felt the need to remind everyone in the room as he sat down in his throne which had been brought to the War Room for this very reason.

"We have to do something, we have to stop them!" Gaston replied, watching keenly as Belle left his side once again, setting her mother's diary down on the table to join her father at his side.

"They are... unstoppable." Maurice said not only to Gaston this time, but to the entire room. The anger he once held in his voice gone, as if he only had the strength to mutter those words spoken of grave experience. Belle wouldn't have it though, and sat down at the floor by her father's feet, taking his hand that rested on the arm of the throne in both her smaller ones.

"He could be on his way right now, Papa." She tried, running her thumb over the rough skin on her father's hand, expecting him to withdraw once again as he had done before, but his words caught Belle completely by surprise, all life seemingly absent in the king as he met his daughter's gaze with a lack of any emotion.

"It's too late, my girl. It's just... too late."

XXX

Rumpelstiltskin watched from afar as the sun settled behind the high mountains that surrounded half of Avonlea castle. Whoever's bright idea it was to build the castle so close to the sea was beyond him; with just the right flick of the wrist, he could send the castle and all occupants within it crumbling into the ocean with the slightest of tremors. Perhaps it was best to leave the kingdom to the mercy of the Ogres, he would certainly get a good show out of it.

Perched beneath a dying cherry blossom tree just outside the walls of Avonlea castle, The Dark One made gentle use of his time watching the Ogres rip the king's men into pieces as they tried anything and everything to keep the Ogres from reaching the castle walls. He had arrived only an hour or so ago, but the time had not yet felt right to make himself known to the king, and so he kept his mind busy as he watched with lazy interest the war that was sure to break Avonlea within just a few short hours.

It was cruel, really, to put nobleman Maurice on edge for so long only to swoop into action at the very last second, dealing with the man when he was at his most desperate. Cruel in the eyes of any normal man yes, but to The Dark One, it was nothing more than a game, something to keep his blood pumping, reminding him that he was very much alive.

As the soldier's shouts and cries for help drew closer as what remained of the sun was now hidden by the peaks, Rumpelstiltskin rose from his spot and dusted away the stray strands of grass that stuck to his dark brown leather pants. It was only a matter of time now. Waving his hand in a gentle flourish, The Dark One was encased in a fog of crimson smoke, disappearing from the spot and reappearing within the castle walls. The first thing Rumpelstiltskin noticed was the severe lack of people running about the castle, scared out of their minds without a single idea as to what to do. The corridor was completely empty, with nothing but the sound of his own breathing reverberating off the stone walls.

A heavy frown lined the already deep creases in Rumpelstiltskin's mouth. Had he missed the frenzied panic already? Perhaps the people of Avonlea were a lot better prepared than he had initially hoped. His dark eyes peered down the long corridor, a rather perplexing puzzle now scratching at his brilliant mind. If the Ogres were all out on the battlefield, then why did it look as if one had already barreled through here? Windows were shattered, pieces of wall broken and even a few rafters from the high ceilings had crumbled blocking some areas. Furrowing his brows in confusion, The Dark One began walking down the hall in hopes to find something that could catch his interest; some sort of precious material object he could claim as his price. Surely Maurice had _something_...

It took the better part of an hour, but Rumpelstiltskin had explored a good majority of the castle, finding nothing of personal value (not even in the treasure room) before he finally stumbled upon a room that had otherwise been sealed shut by a form of light magic.

"Fairies." Rumpelstiltskin growled, pushing the dark tendrils of his own magic through the seal and breaking it, allowing for the door to spring open. Stepping inside, Rumpelstiltskin came across a dark coffin sitting atop a table in the center of the room. There was a different feeling in this room than the others, a sense of reverence reaching into his heart replacing the cold, ominous loneliness that the rest of the castle gave off. White roses decorated the top of the casket, robin egg blue drapes aligning the walls and a white silk rug at his feet. Whoever it was that had been sealed inside this coffin was someone who was deeply loved by all, and he dare not breach that seal for a peak for even he had a sense of respect when it came to such things.

Instead, The Dark One's attention was quickly captured by a small pedestal just in front of the coffin. A large glass case enclosed that of a single, simple red rose. Rumpelstiltskin's nostrils flared upon immediate recognition. A simple rose to some, yes, but he knew just exactly what this rose was, and seeing as how it was displayed in the mourning room so delicately, he had a feeling that Maurice did too.

Strange, how did The Enchanted Rose come into the hands of one so pious as Maurice? Rumpelstiltskin reverently removed the glass encasing around the rose and set it gently by his feet. He dared not touch it, for it would surely begin to wilt coming into contact with his inner darkness, however upon closer inspection he found a very faint trace of pink fairy magic warding off time itself on the delicate flower, a preservation spell he could recognize in his sleep.

Rumpelstiltskin placed the glass barrier back around the rose, thinking to himself how wonderful such a rare item would look on display in his Dining Hall back at The Dark Castle. He had no particular need of it, but it was quite pretty and if he knew Maurice well enough, the man would have a hard time parting with something that must have been so special as to be the center decoration for the one who had so recently departed from this world.

A tight knot suddenly formed in his stomach and he felt his heart drop like a stone as he thought, for a flickering moment, the girl who had written him the letter. Had he been too late in coming? Had she perished by the hand of the rogue Ogre that had trampled the halls of the castle? Rumpelstiltskin shut his eyes tightly, willing for the images to go away; forcing himself to believe someone else resided in that coffin. _Anyone_ else.

But why? Why was that so important? He came here for a material item in exchange; The Enchanted Rose, apparently. He had decided long ago that the petty girl would be a terrible thing to claim. Wrinkling up his nose, Rumpelstiltskin turned on his heel and headed out of the room, not even bothering with sealing the door as he had found it previously and made quick haste to the one room he hadn't bothered checking earlier, as he could feel the King's energy residing inside. The War Room.

XXX

Everyone's attention was immediately taken from the King and princess as there was a sudden banging on the doors. Expecting no one else, those within began to exchange nervous glances with one another. Belle sat up a bit straighter, her eyes shining with the light that had been absent for the better part of an hour now.

"That's him! That has to be him!" She exclaimed, moving when Maurice stood up and going with him as he headed towards the doors.

"How could he get past the walls?" Maurice asked, feeling his voice shake with the realization that it very well could be The Dark One knocking on the other side of his doors. "Open it!" Maurice waved his hand, snapping Seamus and Oliver to attention as they once again removed the barricade from the door. Gaston, who had placed himself in front of Belle and Maurice, quickly drew his sword. Belle wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if an Ogre would show the courtesy of knocking before they destroyed the castle, nor would a sword fare any better against Rumpelstiltskin if it was him who had knocked. Each and every one in the War Room held their breath as Seamus and Oliver placed their hands on the brass knobs and swung the doors inwards to show in their guest, whether friend of foe.

When nothing happened, Belle tried standing on her tip-toes to see over the shoulder of her fiancé as he was blocking her view of what lay in the corridor, but as Gaston was two heads taller than her, she saw nothing but the confused, vexed faces the others in the room wore as the peered into the hall.

"Well, that was a bit of a letdown!"

Belle jumped at the sudden voice coming from behind her. Turning with the rest of the group, her eyes happened upon the strangest looking man sitting quite comfortably in her father's throne, the model of Avonlea Castle held loosely between his gnarled hands. As soon as the strange man knew that all attention was on him, he let out an unsettling giggle, sending gooseflesh across her skin and forcing the finer hairs on the back of her neck to stand up on end. When no one said anything, the man continued,

"You sent me a message, something about, "Help! Help! We're dying. Can you save us?"'

Belle swallowed a gasp as she realized just who this strange little man sitting in her father's throne was. His tone was child-like, mocking the very letter she had sent him just this morning. The princess couldn't help but to look up at her father, trying to gauge some sort of reaction from him other than stunned as he stared back into the dead eyes of The Dark One. Gaston was the first to bring his wits about him as he pushed forward and pointed the end of his sword at Rumpelstiltskin, daring the Imp to come any closer as Rumpelstiltskin stood up from the throne.

"Well the answer is..." Rumpelstiltskin began, stopping in front of Gaston to swat the blade of his sword down nearly forcing Gaston to lose his grip on his weapon. "Yes, I can." With a casual toss, the model of Avonlea Castle went through the air and landed in the careful hands of Bernie, the Royal Contractor. "Yes, I can protect your little town... for a price." Rumpelstiltskin continued, circling around Bernie like a vulture before moving to stand in front of the group as a whole, silently demanding respect, as if his very presence before them was nothing short of a godsend. Bernie looked about ready to pass out.

"We sent you a promise of gold." Maurice said quickly, remembering his daughter's words.

Rumpelstiltskin in turn bit back an amused laugh, pacing his way slowly over to Maurice and watching with amusement as he and the foolish boy who had pointed a sword at him pushed the girl back behind them in protection. He couldn't help but to notice, however, that the curious girl kept trying to steal peeks at him from behind her barricade of men.

"Ah... now, you see, um... I uh... make gold." He replied to the king, his voice mocking once again as if that bit of information should have been as obvious as the nose on his face. His dead eyes passed the men keeping the woman hidden from sight, connecting with the cerulean eyes that looked back at him with such intensity, Rumpelstiltskin was forced to look away and back to Maurice. "What I want is something a bit more special." He continued on, hearing the light shuffling of feet as the princess and the lanky boy made their way closer, the girl from curiosity and the boy in some noble sense of protecting his king.

His heightened senses picked up almost immediately the scent of the girl, and it took everything within his willpower to not shudder in pleasure or break the face of The Dealmaker. Vanilla, brown sugar, baked peaches and something that was all entirely..._her_. His eyes met with the girl once again as his thoughts were confirmed, she had been the one that had written to him, the very minx that drew him in like a siren with nothing more than a hastily-written letter and her smell. He felt his entire resolve on his previous argument with himself break like a flood-gate, it seemed that he wouldn't be getting The Enchanted Rose after all.

_Well, just...shit._

"My price..." Rumpelstiltskin went on, pulling his attention away from who he now knew as the princess to look back to the king, a flickering smile playing at his lips as he could see the man hanging on his every word. "Is her."

Belle immediately felt her breath catch in her throat as Rumpelstiltskin pointed a gnarled finger straight at her. Eyes wide, all she could do was stand there and look upon The Dark One, doing what she could to keep her jaw clamped shut in favor of looking like a gaping codfish in front of everyone. Her? The Dark One wanted _her_? Belle thought back to the copious amounts of other things she was sure Rumpelstiltskin would have asked for in lieu of gold… but _her_? Heat flooded to the princess' apple-shaped cheeks as various, inappropriate thoughts crossed her mind as to what The Dark One would particularly want of her, a woman, though before she could allude deeper into her thoughts, her father spoke up.

"No." Maurice seemed to have gained back the courage he had lost long ago with the simple word. He didn't care if it was The Dark One he had addressed so callously, no one but the man he had hand-picked-out for Belle had any right to claim her for themselves. Said man instinctively put his arm before Belle in a protective manner, his dark eyes looking down on Rumpelstiltskin with what Belle was sure was a false sense of bravado.

"The young lady is engaged... to me." Gaston told Rumpelstiltskin boldly, though his bravery was cut off short when he and everyone else in the room was reduced to flinching when Rumpelstiltskin in turn laughed at his words.

"I wasn't asking if she was engaged!" He mused, walking at a casual pace past Maurice and closer to the boy and princess, but even as he approached them he walked a bit past, giving them his back for a short moment. "I'm not looking for... love!" Rumpelstiltskin placed both hands over his heart, highly mocking the last word as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. Rumpelstiltskin then spun on his heel to face the odd couple in a grand flourish. "I'm looking for a caretaker... for my rather large estate." He went on, spidering the tips of his fingers together as his dead eyes looked back to Maurice with a flicker of a smile. "It's her, or no deal."

"Get out." Maurice said indefinitely, the red color that Belle had been so familiar with returning to his face as he pointed to the door. "LEAVE!"

Belle felt Gaston's protective arm in front of her pull her back as Rumpelstiltskin slowly began to walk past them, adhering to the king's wishes by heading out the door.

"As you wish." He replied with his back to the group. He walked slowly, however, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he could practically feel the turmoil churning within the princess' bosom as she debated on what to do. Before she even knew what it was that she was doing, Belle felt her mouth open and cried out,

"No, wait!"

Feeling her heart hammering harshly against her ribs, it was a wonder she was even able to get out those words to begin with. She roughly shoved Gaston's protective arm from her as he was adamant on keeping it there and watched as Rumpelstiltskin halted, and turned to face her directly. It had been hard to get a good look at the strange man ever since he had arrived. She had either been blocked from view or his back had been to her, but as she stood out in the open, and he open to her, she was able to get in a good look of The Dark One for the first time.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when it came to the appearance of The Dark One, but this certainly wasn't it. The texts on him were quite vague, as she had come to discover as of late, and she hadn't paused to think of what he might have _looked_ like. The word 'monster' crossed the texts many times, and in her haste to finish her letter she didn't dwell much on the subject but as he stood there before her now, she wasn't sure what she made of him. Perhaps if he had the head of a yak and was covered from head to toe in fur and had horns coming out from his crown would she be able to see where the word 'monster' had come from, but he looked like a man, an ordinary man. Sure his skin had a sickly green tone to it and his hair looked as though it could use a good wash, there wasn't anything about him that _physically _set him aside from the others in the room. Well, there was the matter of his apparel; and he was much shorter, only a handful of inches taller than herself (a drastic height difference when comparing to Gaston) but he had two arms just as a normal man would; two legs, two ears, two eyes...

Belle felt herself nearly choke on her breath as she took in his eyes finally. Large amber iris' were staring intently back at her, hanging on her word as she had asked him to wait. There was a lack of shine to the color in his eyes, almost transparent... dead. Perhaps it was this that others saw in him that put them on edge, as his eyes were truly different than anything she had ever seen before. And as she grew up with the understanding that eyes were a gateway to the soul, his eyes were now a mystery for her to uncover.

"I will go with him." Belle said at long last taking a few steps closer to Rumpelstiltskin, quelling the uneasy feeling in her gut as Rumpelstiltskin cried out with glee upon her words that was nearly drowned out by Gaston's protest,

"I forbid it, Belle!"

Belle turned hotly to Gaston, her eyes aflame with the burning passion she had been forced to hold in her entire life to the prospect of being a 'lady'.

"No one decides my fate but me! I shall go."

Amused as he was, Rumpelstiltskin interjected his thoughts, the spinner in his mind somehow breaching the cage The Dark One had locked him up inside in wanting to make sure the little minx knew exactly what it was she was getting herself into.

"It's forever, dearie!"

Belle turned to face Rumpelstiltskin once more, The Dark One beating the spinner back into submission in his mind as impossible blue eyes met with his own, the urge to growl in appreciation of the beauty in front of him pushed down to the very far recesses of his mind, somehow managing to keep his eyes on hers rather than the more exposed parts of her body.

"My family, my friends... they will all live?" Belle asked him tentatively.

"You have my word." Rumpelstiltskin replied, dropping the voice of The Dark One for a brief moment as he waved his hand and nodded his head down in some sort of semblance of a bow, his eyes catching the exposed flesh of her neck and chest for the briefest of moments before lifting his head back up to look back at the princess. He wasn't sure if she was nodding in return, or taking a moment to look him over just as he had her, but as he found himself looking at the tops of her lashes he felt a slight tingle roll down his spine which only intensified when her eyes met with his once more.

"Then you have mine. I will go, with you, forever." Belle replied with such a sense of nobility in her voice, it surprised even herself as she stared down The Dark One without a trace of regret.

A look of what Belle was sure was surprise surfaced for the briefest of moments on his face before it vanished completely in his excitement, a shrewd, "Deal!" squeaked from his throat, giggling with the persona of The Dark One once again as he bounced on the balls of his feet like an eager child just gifted a present to be unwrapped.

"Belle... Belle..." The voice of her father pulled Belle's eyes away from her new master with what almost felt like...reluctance? She turned her neck to look back as Maurice tried pleading reason into her. Giving her father a look of pity, she stepped towards him and rested her hands on his chest, smoothing down the fur of his cloak as to give her hands something to do as she was about to listen to what she knew was coming. "You cannot do this! Belle, please! You cannot go with this... beast!"

Rumpelstiltskin placed a hand over his heart, his mouth dropping in a mockery of being hurt as he met eyes with the king, though Maurice didn't find it to be the least bit amusing.

"Father... Gaston..." Belle turned her attention to the man who had been her fiancé up until just a few seconds ago. "It's been decided."

Belle's ears picked up when she heard the footsteps of Rumpelstiltskin behind her, approaching her from behind until she could feel him practically at her back.

"You know," Rumpelstiltskin began, pointing a finger towards Belle, just inches away from touching her. "She's right. The deal is struck." He made a motion with his hand, symbolizing that the dotted line had been signed... so to speak. With the girl so close to him now, he couldn't help but to breathe in her scent once more, taking in everything he could without alluding to what he was doing and passing it off as a quiet, deep breath. Feeling his blood pumping through his veins like a wild high, Rumpelstiltskin quickly brought himself back down to earth as he looked back at the king with a sudden realization. "Oh, congratulations on your little war!"

With a child-like giggle, Rumpelstiltskin placed his hand to the small of the princess' back, turning her away from her father and walked her out of the room, holding her waist tightly in a protective manner as she now completely belonged to him. The little minx would pay for what she had done, for calling on him without any idea of the consequences. Oh yes, she would pay deliciously.

**Authors Note: **

**Oi Vey! This one took me quite a while to crunch out. I hope you guys aren't too disappointed what with the goings on and on and on of the political stuff we already know and relationships and what-not. I just felt it particularly important to include to really establish where exactly we are within the world and story. **

**I went with the subtle things we've learned throughout the series, and then I went with a handful of things that I just made up on the spot to fill in the larger chunks we really have no knowledge of. Let me know what you guys think, if it's worth continuing or not.**

**A special thanks to my friends Ghost Shadow and GuardianAngelHaruki for proof-reading and helping me out when I got some bad cases of writers block. You guys rock!**

**As a side note, if I get enough positive feedback for this fic and continue to write more, not all the chapters will be this long, promise (unless you guys like the length, I don't want to over-bear you).**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed and reviewed, truly I appreciate it! Keep em comin in!**

**I'm really sorry that this chapter took me a while to post, there were a lot of complications with my muse about what sort of things I wanted to slip in as well as the fact that I have been without internet for nearly a week now. Also, I'd like to believe that I'm stalling because of tonight's episode as we are supposed to get more of Belle's time in The Dark Castle and I would like to incorporate whatever happens into this story.**

**Anywho, finally, the second chapter :D enjoy!**

Rumpelstiltskin didn't release his possessive hold on the princess until they had exited the keep of the castle. As soon as he let his hand up from her waist, the former High Princess of Avonlea scanned her eyes on her surroundings, getting her first real look of her land since returning home from Arendelle. They were still within the curtain wall, but Belle was only able to know that from years of living in the castle. A great majority of the South wall was gone altogether, reduced to nothing but rubble joining in with the various shrapnel of what used to be her father's stables in the lower bailey creating a direct path to the forest behind the castle. The well she had spent countless hours resting beside, reading in the light of the spring and autumn sun had somehow remained intact, but it was only a small victory that hardly mattered compared to the utter destruction of everything else around her.

The flickering lights of the torches fastened to the castle's walls cast an orange glow that cut through the blanket of night, frightening away the shadows that would have otherwise kept the destruction hidden from her eyes. A quiet tear found its way down Belle's cheek as she stood there in the lower bailey, her legs unwilling to move as she paused to remember what her home had been once in all its glory. She hadn't even noticed she had fallen behind The Dark One until he cleared his throat in annoyance, pulling Belle from her thoughts and back to him as he stood in the archway that led to the main bailey, his dead eyes keen on her standing out in the open.

"Oh by all means, take a moment, draw a picture." The Dark Sorcerer jabbed, waving his arms about frantically, clearly impatient with her but unwilling to pass up an opportunity for his words to cut into her heart like ice. Belle took a moment to shake her head quickly, clearing her thoughts and put motion to her legs once more. Now was not the time to mourn for her losses, there would be plenty of time for that later.

If Rumpelstiltskin was pleased that she had picked up the pace again, he didn't show it. As soon as she began making her way to him he turned and walked through the main bailey and under the main gate of the castle, taking care to step over what was left of the portcullis that lay in splinters at their feet. Belle had a bit of a harder time stepping over the small blockade, her dress shoes and long golden dress slowing her down greatly. She had almost lost sight of The Dark One before picking up the ends of her dress and hurrying to catch up with him.

She immediately wished that she hadn't been so eager to join him at his side.

Her legs failed her once more as she stepped out onto the footbridge, her eyes unable to leave the scene before her. Bodies, both soldier and Ogre alike, littered the land in all directions, the outer curtain wall in complete shambles leaving only the gatehouse standing tall with the iron bars still closed tightly. It was ridiculous to think now of how important it had been to get those gates closed before the Ogres had gotten any closer; it was quite plainly a futile effort on their part. A quiet shiver rolled down her spine as she realized that the small man in front of her, with all his odd quirks and strange skin tone had been the one to put an end to all this. But when had he used his power to stop it? In the War Room, the battle sounds still reached their ears and it wasn't until Rumpelstiltskin had said that the deal was struck did those noises cease. It was perhaps in that moment Belle began to feel the panic starting to erupt in her chest, keeping her from being able to breathe properly as she realized just how powerful this dark sorcerer really was, and she now belonged to him.

Stopping before the main gate, Rumpelstiltskin raised his right hand. A pulse of magic blew open the black iron gates of the gatehouse, causing Belle to jump at the sudden noise and display of magic he felt at ease demonstrating in front of her. Why he hadn't just stepped around the bits of stone that used to be the outer curtain wall like he had done before within the main bailey she wasn't sure, but if she had to put her finger on it she would be quick to guess that he was trying to frighten her, trying to assert his dominance by making her afraid of his power. And he was doing a damn good job.

It wasn't until she saw Rumpelstiltskin starting to walk through the main gate that Belle had to wonder how it was that he traveled; how he had come here to Avonlea. Surely he didn't live so close as he was able to just walk here, though his response to her letter had been quite quick, but she had put that off as some sort of magic transferred to the letters addressed to him, being able to reach him faster than a normal letter would. Still though, the dark sorcerer didn't show any signs of stopping as he walked the entire length of the foot bridge. Having been silently denied the luxury of being able to gather her own things, Belle was most upset about being unable to get a pair of proper boots on her feet to protect them from the journey ahead… and of course her books. She didn't dare ask him though, she knew the moment he led her from the War Room and through the corridors there would be no messing about with gathering her belongings.

In catching up with Rumpelstiltskin a second time, Belle had noticed a small group of her father's soldiers slowly approaching them after she stepped off of the foot bridge and onto the stone trail that would take them as far as the Frontlands. With the battle now over; the Ogres mysteriously vanquished, they only need to return to their king and tend to the wounded. Surely he wasn't planning on making her walk the entire way to The Frontlands! It would take weeks with her slow gait and unsure feet; no doubt he would do away with her within the first day once he realized just how clumsy and unaccustomed to foot-travel she was. She pushed the morbid thought from her mind, trying to focus on those who slowly approached them.

"M'lady?" One soldier called out as soon as he had realized it was the Avonlea's Princess who was walking so leisurely beyond the castle grounds. The soldier's eyes happened upon Rumpelstiltskin, any color that had been left in his face through fatigue of battle drained noticeably upon recognition. Unable to catch her new master's gaze, Belle could only shoot the soldier a sympathetic glance, conveying with her eyes that all would be well, that it was all over. She dared not to speak to the soldier directly in fear of upsetting The Dark One; there was no telling what he was capable of; what he could do to her. The soldier felt helpless as he and the few soldiers left were forced to watch The Dark One lead the former Princess of Avolnea away, farther and farther from the castle and into the darkness of the night that the torches of the castle were unable to reach.

It was harder to navigate through the carnage now that they hadn't a single light save for the half-moon to go by. Already Belle was starting to show her lack of grace as her toes quite frequently found the smallest of rocks to stumble over. Somehow, each time she managed to keep her balance, however, but she couldn't help but to wonder how it was Rumpelstiltskin seemed to have no trouble at all traversing through the vast darkness. It was possible that he was able to see through it all, she thought. She had seen beforehand how different his eyes looked from everyone else's, and the more she thought on it the more it seemed to make sense as she once again found a speck of dust to catch her footing off-guard.

At least a dozen times during the eerily quiet walk, Belle had opened her mouth to ask one of the hundreds of burning questions she had for Rumpelstiltskin, but each time she tried she amply closed her mouth back shut, fear getting the best of her and forcing her to swallow her own words despite her nagging curiosity that usually got the best of her. Already her feet were beginning to protest to the rough terrain, she was sure there were at least a half-dozen or so blisters starting to make themselves known between her two feet, but at least now with her eyes mostly adjusted to the dark of the night she was unable to tell if it were human, Ogre, or tree parts she was forced to step into or over.

Finally, after what felt like hours Belle had mustered up the courage to use her voice. Side-stepping along with the dark sorcerer, her blue eyes remained keen on him as he paid her no heed and kept up the brisk walk forward. Furrowing her brows, she began to speak.

"Wh-"

Rumpelstiltskin extended an arm, opening up his palm where a fireball began to grow in size with each moment and with a flick of his wrist, the ball of fire was flung from his control and onto the corpse of what Belle was now able to see by the flickering light of an Ogre. The flesh caught fire quickly, illuminating a fair distance all around them and Belle was able to see the Avonlea village not too much farther ahead. Belle immediately closed her mouth, all courage she had spent building up completely and utterly gone as Rumpelstiltskin kept going, seeming to pay her no mind to her attempted speech and pulling another fireball from his palm, dismissing it as he had done previously and catching fire to another Ogre corpse just a small ways ahead. It was clear what he was up to now, more or less; the bodies of the fallen Ogres catching fire now acting as beacons of light that would eventually lead them to the small village that lacked any light of its own.

Wrinkling her nose at the sudden foulness that plagued the air, Belle swallowed hard and decided at long last that the time for questions would not be now, so she simply followed like a dog on a short leash into the village.

As the pair walked through the ruined remains, Belle's bright eyes caught the very few gazes that were staring back at her, hiding amongst the wreckage of what had used to be a fairly large, prosperous village. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she watched two boys, a little younger than herself, going through the streets to gather up the bodies of those who had fallen victim to the Ogre's advance when they had pushed through the village. But even the boys, in their emotionless task, paused to watch as Rumpelstiltskin led their princess through their streets and slowed his walking pace as he waited for her to catch up to his side once more.

"What are we doing here?" Belle asked Rumpelstiltskin in a hoarse whisper, suddenly realizing her throat had gone dry that had nothing to do with how thirsty she was. Her entire body seized up the moment she felt his knotted hand returning to the small of her back, as he had done in her castle, and held it there protectively but she didn't shy away. Despite how terrified she truly was, she refused to let him know. She knew why he had brought her here, his silence to her question not at all shifting her thoughts. He _wanted _her people to see what had become of their princess; he _wanted_ the rumors to spread because with rumors of The Dark One also came fear, the very thing he thrived on.

His dead eyes happened upon each and every person he felt staring at them, daring them with his rigid features and black eyes for any of them to do or say anything. None of them, however, could meet his gaze and the handful of those left on the streets quickly retreated to a safer place where they would be spared the scrutinizing gaze of The Dark One. Belle felt her jaw go rigid as she watched doors and windows slam shut, shutters being pulled closed tightly and even a father who snatched up his wandering child around the middle to haul away to a safer distance, away from her, away from The Dark One. She had been wrong, he wasn't an ordinary man. No ordinary man would _want_ this. He truly was a beast.

As soon as the village was nothing more than a ghost town, Rumpelstiltskin finally stopped, turning to face her. Despite his shorter stature, Belle found that she had to look up at him to meet his eyes at such a close proximity to him, searching deep down into her core the courage that she so desperately needed to hold onto as he stared back at her. The flickering orange glow from the burning Ogre's corpses lit his face brilliantly, shadows dancing across his golden-flecked skin and bringing out the intensity of his blackened eyes. Black? She was so sure back at the castle they were more amber colored...

"Please." The word tumbled from her mouth before she even had time to pause and think on what she was pleading for, but his eyes showed a glint of understanding as she began to gather her thoughts, knowing now that she was begging to be taken away from here. The vivid images of the only world she had ever known would burn into her memories forever, and if she was never to be able to return, never able to help any more than what she had already sacrificed for her people, she no longer wanted any part of it.

A soft gasp fell from her lips as she suddenly felt her ankles growing ice cold, the sensation quickly wrapping up around her calves and up to her knees. Alarmed, Belle took a step backwards to look down but Rumpelstiltskin's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist firmly, holding her there. A plume of crimson smoke began to overtake both their bodies leaving Belle gasping and sputtering more from fear than what the smoke was actually doing to her. Feeling only Rumpelstiltskin's hand on her wrist for a moment, a sudden lightness came over her body; like a lucid dream. All around her she saw nothing but the blood-red smoke, not even Rumpelstiltskin who she could still feel holding onto her forcefully could be seen. She began to feel herself spinning; she wasn't sure how since there was nothing she could focus on to be sure, but the near upset of her stomach was a clear indicator that something was happening but just as she was sure she'd make an embarrassment of herself all over her shoes, it stopped.

Her feet hit the hard, marble floor in an instant, not hard enough to throw her incredibly clumsy body off balance, as Rumpelstiltskin was there to hold her upright, but enough to make her gasp out in both relief and shock. She only had a brief second to catch her breath before Rumpelstiltskin let go of her wrist and began walking again, heading towards a large set of double doors. The room they had landed in was small, a large set of double doors to her left where Rumpelstiltskin was heading and another set straight ahead of her. To her right was a smaller, single door that she was sure was some sort of broom closet.

A handful of marble pillars placed for decoration rather than structure lined the three walls around her, the wall directly behind her empty save for the stone staircase that split off in two directions to the second story. A small, circular table seemed to be the main focus in this small room, covered with a white, silk tablecloth furnished with a simple vase in its center filled with what Belle was sure were black roses. Whether they had been a different color once and simply died from neglect or Rumpelstiltskin had used his magic to change the color more to his liking she was unsure, though both options seemed entirely possible judging by what little of his character she already knew of him.

The only other objects within the room were a couple statues nestled neatly between the marble pillars and a suit of armor that had been put up for display next to the double doors in front of her. She could only assume that these double were the doors that would lead outside, as it was designed very similar to her father's castle right down to the suit of armor that kept it 'guarded.'

_Castle? He has a castle?!_

She wasn't sure why this surprised her; perhaps it was because back in the War Room, he had claimed to own a large _estate_ and the image of a modest yet comfortable, two-story home popped into her mind. But the more she thought on it, the more it seemed to make sense. The Dark One spared no detail that would make his own image look all the more imposing, and being the master of a castle certainly held some merit to that factor. She startled when the double doors opened as Rumpelstiltskin neared them, opened by magic she was sure and Belle knew then that there was more that she would have to get used to in this castle than she would have liked, dead flowers for decoration aside.

"Come." Rumpelstiltskin ordered her hurriedly and issued her though the double doors and into what Belle was able to recognize immediately as the Dining Hall of the castle. It was much larger than the one back in Avonlea, but she didn't even get half a moment to look around properly before Rumpelstiltskin began walking again, seeming in a rush this time, so she had no choice but to oblige and walk with him.

"Where- where are you taking me?" She asked, unable to keep her eyes off the various nick knacks that were held on display in a variety of different pedestals lining the sides of the room.

"Let's call it… your room." He replied, the eager child slipping back into his voice that he used back at her father's castle. She broke her eyes away from what looked like to be a golden chalice to realize that he had turned to point to her as he walked. Curious as to what The Dark One had done to prepare her room so quickly (for she had only sent the letter that morning) she hopped along, trying to keep in step with him without tripping over her own two feet.

They continued through the Dining Hall and down a spiral stone staircase. Now that was odd, Belle knew for certain that the bedchambers were held above the main floor, not down where the-

Her heart skipped a few beats as Rumpelstiltskin stopped abruptly and waved his hand, the solid oak door in front of him swinging open to reveal what Belle knew immediately to be the dungeon. Wide, confused eyes looked back upon The Dark One, her hands bunching up in the sides of her dress as she felt her voice crack as she asked,

"My room?"

Rumpelstiltskin drummed the tips of his fingers together, bouncing on the balls of his feet looking all too much pleased with himself.

"Well, it sounds a lot nicer than "dungeon"'. He replied, wrinkling up his nose before putting his hand back to the small of her back and pushing her inside a bit forcefully. He could hear her voice cracking and sputtering in resentment, but as soon as her feet had crossed inside he used both his hands to push the large oak door shut on her, unable to quell an unsettling giggle that came from his throat as he manually locked the door with the wooden plank nestled snugly inside an iron hold that would keep Belle from being able to push the door back open. He turned his back on the door, his giggle continuing as he quickly walked from the locked door and back up the staircase, hearing his newest possession calling out to him pitifully,

"You can't just leave me in here!" There was a dull thumping on the door, and he was sure she was banging her fists onto it. "Hello? Hello!?"

XXX

What the hell had he done?

Rumpelstiltskin had every intention, _every intention_ of leaving Avonlea with a new decorative piece to add to his expansive collection within the Dining Hall. How could it be that the curious gaze, the tantalizing smell of a cerulean-eyed beauty had been overwhelmingly enough to give him, The Dark One, pause? He hadn't known himself where his thoughts on the matter settled until it was entirely too late, the words tumbling from his mouth before he even had a moment to reprimand himself for going back on his own word and to think it through clearly.

_My price, is her._

The Spinner howled in anguish in the dark recesses of his mind, where the demon of The Dark One danced around with joy, beating the Spinner merciless in the process for being so rebuttal. It was a battle quickly lost, and the guilt from taking a person – a princess no less – as payment only lingered until he had returned back home to The Dark Castle where he was once more felt as a king in his own court.

It was never a question as to where he would store the girl. From the very moment his boots touched ground he had led her to the dungeon without a moment's hesitation. She seemed eager enough to follow, trusting that he would be a complete gentleman, truly unaware of the beast that lay inside. The confusion wrought on her face once she had realized what was to become of her as she looked to him for an explanation, the urge to lose himself in laughter caught in his lungs, only to be released as he bolted the door tightly to keep her sealed inside.

Her innocence had almost been too much, the only flicker of doubt of his actions coming to pass as she looked up at him at the village, unafraid to show the raw emotion in her bright blue orbs as she plead to him in both words and in gaze. It was her eyes that had him before her simple utterance of 'please', a word he had come so accustomed to hearing, so easy to ignore, that he hadn't thought for a moment he would be affected. But as he looked back into what he was sure was a cruel joke from whatever gods may be that had a hand in her creation, that had every interest in his demise… as he gazed back into the shimmering gateway to her very soul his motive was given pause.

It wasn't too late. He could return the girl, pass it off as some sort of test and claim The Enchanted Rose for his prize as he had initially intended. But as he had quickly discovered the cerulean orbs to be his weakness, within them he also found his strength. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't ever stopped to think himself a selfish man, quite the opposite really. Everything he did was intended for one purpose; a purpose that he had reasoned with himself time and time again to be the very least selfish thing one could ever do given his situation. But selfishness was the only word that could describe what came over him next after his doubt had been pushed away. She belonged to _him_ now, and though he still wasn't sure what that meant entirely, he knew then that he wanted no one else to have her. No family to find comfort in, no friends to converse with, no acquaintances to pass smiles to. No… it would only be _him_ that she might find comfort with, only _him_ to converse and smile with… forever.

So before another battle in the war that held about his code of chivalry could enact in his mind, he brought them both to The Dark Castle. He had brought them home.

Making his way back up from the dungeon, Rumpelstiltskin paused by the hearth of the fire, feeling its warmth lap at the exposed parts of his skin on his hands, neck and face. All remnants of what had been a letter not hours ago had completely gone, reduced to nothing but perhaps a half-pinch of dust that had collected underneath the pine logs of which gave the fire it's fuel.

Even now, an entire floor above the dungeon, his keen ears could still hear the muffled thumps of his prisoner's fists against the thick oak door of her cell. If he listened hard enough, took a moment to hold his breath, he could even hear her calling out to him in her fit of anger still. In what would have otherwise been a cold, autumn night with the sounds of only himself pattering around The Dark Castle for company, her hysterical efforts to beat the door down was a welcomed solace to his ears, at long last settling the demon of The Dark One back down into his mind where he could finally have enough room for his own thoughts to work.

She _was_ a rather spirited individual; he'd at least give her that. Given only her words on parchment to get an idea of who she was at heart, he now knew that he had guessed right. The dungeon was the perfect place for her, at least for now. As a princess (or a mockery there-of) it was high-time she learned her place. Stripping the girl from every luxury she had previously been entitled to, every comfort she ever had would surely break her and very quickly. He had no interest in a woman who paraded herself around his castle demanding respect and loyalty that he was sure she had back in her own kingdom. He would destroy the girl in mind and spirit, subject her to the cruelest, harshest of extremities, douse the fire that fed her light. Only then would she come to respect him as her master. Only then would she learn her proper place at life in The Dark Castle.

Realizing that he had been drumming his fingers together in anticipation of the very thoughts, Rumpelstiltskin removed himself from the fireplace and to the head of the table where he once more took a seat in his leather chair. With a moments resolve of the anguish of The Dark One, he intended to make high-use of his time and with a simple flourish of the right wrist, a pile of ten or so letters found their way in front of him on the polished table, having magicked them down from the tower where they had been collecting.

Absentmindedly tuning out the noises coming from the floor below, Rumpelstiltskin began to thumb through the sealed envelopes, first looking for any seal that he recognized or that caught his interest. Finding none, he settled back into his chair and broke the seal of the first one he could and began the tedious task of dissecting the written word of their intent, task, and of course most interesting to him, payment.

It wasn't until the eighth letter of then ten that he felt his curiosity even remotely stirred. A woman, a noble at that, felt it in her need to inform The Dark One that Prince Thomas would be holding a royal ball in search for a princess. Rumpelstiltskin snorted, he was very well aware of these particular functions, it always brought in a higher volume of letters from young women all wanting the same thing… a guarantee to their fate. This woman, however, didn't ask for beauty or status or anything of the sort, at least not for herself, but for her two daughters, that they would be granted a highly favorable chance to catch the Prince's attention, and his heart. It wasn't the contents within _this_ letter that had the gears in his twisted little mind grinding, but the name signed at the bottom.

Lady Tremaine. A name he knew not by encounter, but by the fairy godmother bestowed upon the family through generation upon generation. For years now he had been trying to pinpoint the location of that pesky little flea, and now the opportunity seemed to have fallen right into his lap without him so much as lifting a finger. Of course he had no intent to help out Lady Tremaine and her two daughters. He would simply stop by, unnoticed, and cause _something_ to happen that would illicit a visit from their family guardian and finally get back what was rightfully his.

A twisted giggle came from the dark sorcerer as he got up from the table and tucked the letter safely away in his breast pocket underneath his dragon hide coat. It was then that he noticed the clamor coming from the basement had ceased entirely. Wondering for the briefest of moments if his last prisoner would have left something behind in the cell that would allow the girl to kill herself, he waited on baited breath, listening intently until he could hear the faint sound of her crying.

A smile split his lips apart as he craned his neck to the side, rewarded by a few cracking sounds that immediately brought a release in pressure to his left shoulder. It seemed that this letter had come just in time, giving him _just_ the opportunity he needed to escape the castle for the night and leave the girl to wallow in her sorrows. Without a snap of his fingers, he was gone from The Dark Castle in an instant to pay the house of Tremaine a quiet visit.

XXX

Snow had already infiltrated the grounds of The Dark Castle, much to The Dark One's disbelief. It was early for that kind of weather, even for being as high up in the mountains as he was. Snowfall wasn't due for at least another month, or had he simply forgotten to change the calendars within the castle again? No, he was sure he was right. In the two kingdoms he had visited just yesterday, last night even, the evening was cool and breezy as was customary to a usual autumn night. It wasn't that an early snowfall had upset him; it had simply caught him by surprise to come home after a long night and finding his entire land encased with at least a foot of the stuff.

Returning to the Dining Hall early that morning, Rumpelstiltskin found that his fire had long ago given out but that wasn't the most pressing thought on his mind. The room was empty of noise, not even the anguished crying of the woman down in his basement could be heard, though as he reached out with his senses he could still feel her heart beating strong.

_Asleep while the sun rises. Well, we can't have that… _Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers, feeling his magic pooling down in the confines of her cell and withdrew himself from his magic once he felt the task complete. Satisfied, he returned to the head of the table and took a seat, propping his elbows on the surface of the wooden table and waited, his eyes dead on the entryway he was sure she'd be emerging from.

XXX

Resting quietly on the thin mattress on the floor of her cell, Belle wiped away the silent tears that continued to stream down her cheeks, drying almost instantly upon contact with the frigid air around her and leaving trails of a crusty salt. She hadn't slept much through the night, how could she when her mind was so full and her heart so empty?

After a half-hour of banging on the door it was clear that Rumpelstiltskin would not be coming back for her. Reality hit her hard and fast as she had braced her entire left flank against the wooden door and slid down, slumping into a pathetic heap on the cold stone floor. Tears had begun to spill from the corners of her eyes, weeping not for her current predicament, but for the losses she had undergone so quickly. Not even away from her land for an hour then and an overwhelming sense of homesickness was taking root deep in her chest.

For hours after that, Belle had sobbed, a luxury she hadn't even given herself when she had awoken to find that her mother had died. She cried for the loss of her mother, the loss of a good friend Anna, both of which had been entirely her fault. But more than that she wept for the loss of her father, her kingdom and all those who resided in it for she would never be able to see them again. Once the tears had stopped, Belle found some sort of inner strength to drag herself over to the thin mattress laid out on the floor, cushioned only by an even thinner layer of straw. She might as well have slept on the floor, but at least the straw and fabric kept away the cold, if for just a bit.

The entire room felt as if it were encased in ice. Her toes, pinched and raw from her shoes had gone entirely numb as did her nose and fingers. It seemed the only warmth she would be getting that night would be from the hot, wet tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks once again as she realized that this was her life now, the life of a prisoner, a price to be paid out of the gentleness of her heart in wanting to save her people. She debated removing her shoes for a moment, wanting to examine the souls of her feet to see if her fair skin had indeed blistered from the uncomfortable walk to the village, but with the temperature quickly dropping, she dared not even attempt. Her feet would freeze over soon enough, as would the rest of her body and she'd become nothing more than a cold, hard shell, incapable of feeling. She had only wished that the bitter cold would numb her aching insides as well.

And so was her first night in The Dark Castle.

A sudden clanking noise from within her cell caused Belle to bolt upright so fast, her vision became clouded in red for a second or two before going black with flashing stars. Holding her head tightly against her right palm, cursing the headache she had created from crying all throughout the night to go away, her vision slowly restored and she could finally give her attention to what had startled her so in the first place. Blinking at the object before her, Belle cautiously stood up as the last of the purple smoke dissipated back down to the stone floor under her feet leaving a tea service in the center of the small room that hadn't been there before.

Tentatively, Belle reached out to the kettle and let the pads of her fingertips feather the top. She nearly jumped back when the kettle in turn nearly burnt the skin at the touch. Confused, but more-so curious, Belle reached her hand back and lifted up the lid to the kettle, finding her wrist almost instantly assaulted by a warm bout of steam rising from within. The heat was causing her wrist to become red in irritation, but she held it there for as long as she could, embracing what warmth she could receive before being forced to return the lid back to the kettle and pull her wrist back to her for some gentle nursing.

It was a handsome set, all pieces matching in a wonderful yet simple design of white porcelain with a limited use of the color blue splashed onto the sides in delicate, hand-painted lines. Upon the silver tea tray complimenting the kettle were a stack of small plates, a small pitcher of cream an open bowl of brown sugar cubes and two cups.

_Two?_ Belle had to wonder as she ran her hand delicately over its humble design on the teacups face. _Does he wish to join me? If he has gone through the trouble of readying it, only to send it down here for me by magic, then I must be overthinking things. Perhaps he's already caught on to my clumsiness and this is his way of telling me that he won't be surprised if I break one of them…_ A gentle smile played across her delicate lips as she removed her fingers from the tea cup and back to her person. He _was_ thinking of her though, perhaps he was feeling guilty at last for forcing her to sleep down here where she nearly froze to death and-

A small cloud of purple smoke suddenly appeared on the tea service beside the pitcher of cream, in its wake a small index card no larger than her pinky remained. Reaching out, Belle picked up the card and brought it up to her eyes, reading over the scrawl that she assumed belonged to Rumpelstiltskin.

_Tea. Now._

Before Belle even had a moment to process the two incredibly simple words, there was a distinctive clicking noise coming from her cell door, followed by a protesting groan on the rusty hinges as the door popped open and swung outwards, granting her freedom from her prison. Laughing through her smile, she hastily put the card back down on the service tray and ran her palms over her eyes, ensuring that each and every last tear and trail was gone from her complexion. If she were to face her master again this morning, she would do so with a brave face. This was to be her life from here on out, a life she had to remind herself that she had asked for.

Picking up the tea service and finding its balance, Belle swallowed hard before making her way up the stone stairs to face the beast of the castle, forever her master.

Belle did what she could to keep her eyes on anything that wasn't looking back at her. From the moment she crossed the threshold she could feel the intense eyes of Rumpelstiltskin on her. She tried to focus on the various items on the pedestals that she had found so interesting the day before, but they were all blurred and seemingly boring the more she tried to ignore his stare.

It didn't take much effort on his part to notice that the girl was going out of her way to ignore him as she entered the room. A knowing smile spread across his thin lips as he brought the tips of his fingers together, watching her intently as she brought the tea service to the table, doing what she could to look anywhere but towards him. Whether it was anger that still fueled her this morning he did not know, she carried herself with the same poise she had the day before, the posture of a noble woman that came with years and years of being told what to do in respects of being a proper lady. That, he found, he didn't mind so much.

"You will serve me my meals, and you will clean The Dark Castle." He said suddenly, cutting the still air around them. His lip twitched when he noticed her jump at the sound of his voice, as if she had just noticed that he was there.

_She fears me._ He came to understand. _Good._

Gathering her wits about her, Belle could only nod and keep her chin down as she readied the tea for servicing.

"I-I understand." She stammered, doing her part by filling the two tea cups with the hot brew. By her reasoning, if he hadn't intended for her to take tea with him, then he would have only provided the one cup. Still, she was waiting for the steel reprimand of his dissatisfaction as she finished with the first and picked up the second with her free hand with the intent to fill, but it never came, instead he merely continued on.

**"**You will dust my collection, and launder my clothing."

Belle felt her head nodding on its own accord, feeling her already stiff muscles screaming at her from the movement but was unable to stop even if she wanted to. Her body had seemed to abandon her mind altogether, under the understanding that if she did anything other than agree willingly to each and every request he gave her, she would surely pay the price.

**"**Yes."

She stole a glance up at him, finding him perfectly content at the head of the table and making his requests. She looked back down at the empty cup in her hand, tilting the kettle with her opposite one and began to fill it with the warm liquid.

**"**You will fetch me fresh straw when I am spinning at the wheel."

**"**Got it."

Feeling a few drops of the hot brew splashing onto her hand, Belle's attention was brought back to the task of filling the second cup, noticing then that her entire body was shaking, thus forcing her to put the cup back onto the tray so that she might fill it without making such a mess of things. It seemed that Rumpelstiltskin would be getting the first cup she had poured, as that one didn't have tea splashed over the rim and dripping down the sides.

She retrieved the first cup, her blue eyes looking over the cream and sugar with a complete blank expression. She hadn't the slightest idea of how Rumpelstiltskin took his tea. Holding it fast in her hand, as if the delicate piece of china in her hand was some sort of protector, she faced him with a straight back, digging deep in her mind for the words to ask him how she should prepare it but he spoke once more, unfinished with the list of tasks he was to give her.

**"**Oh, and you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts."

Immediately, the strong grip she once had on the cup completely vanished. She felt the fragile piece slipping through her hands like hot butter, unable to grasp back onto it tight enough before a solid _clink_ filled the air as the cup had found its way to the Persian rug underneath her feet, spilling the hot brew both all over it and her hands as it had toppled from her possession. An instantaneous, gut-wrenching pain found its way to Belle's entire body as she witnessed the entire deal in what felt like slow motion. A thousand different thoughts penetrated her mind in the blink of an eye, none of which had to do with the possibility that she had broken something of value that belonged to The Dark One.

Looking back into the face of the monster, Belle felt her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even breathe. He remained staring back at her for what almost felt like two lifetimes before a smile broke over his otherwise firm expression, a finger pointing up in the air and wagging at her in a teasing fashion.

"That one was a quip. Not serious." A soft giggle came from his throat, and it took Belle the entirety of two seconds to realize that he was only joking.

**"**Right." She replied quickly, forcing a laugh from her chest that came out more like a strained wheeze on her part as air was only just starting to return to her lungs. Finally able to breathe right again, her mind was able to return to the cup that was staining the rug with tea at her feet. Feeling sick all over again, Belle squatted down to the floor to retrieve it, praying to any and all gods that would hear her that it hadn't been broken. They hadn't heard her. Gathering the cup in both her hands, she examined the chipped rim with tears threatening to spill out of the corners of her eyes. Even in her blurred vision, she could see that it was well beyond repair.

"Oh... my. I'm so sorry but, uh... it's… it's chipped." Belle swallowed hard as she forced her eyes away from the china and up at her master who had to peer around the table to be able to see her on the floor on the opposite side of the table. She held the cup up; unable to gauge his reaction from their distance though made a point to keep the chipped side closest to her in an effort to make the damage seem smaller than what it was. "You- you can hardly see it…"

Rumpelstiltskin took a good, long hard look his caretaker before him. He could practically feel the terror pulsing from her blood and the beating of her frantic heart against her chest. She was expecting him to do something completely and utterly horrible, he just knew she was. And yet, what better way to instill fear into someone than to keep them on their toes and to do the unexpected? Tilting his head thoughtfully for a moment, keeping his fingers together he stared her down before letting a small sneer roll up over the top of his ruined teeth.

**"**Well, it's just a cup." He replied, as if her reiterated worry over something so pointless was bothering him to no end.

A smile. He wasn't expecting that. The very first he had seen on her face since picking her up as his prize last night and found that he liked the way it brought that flickering twinkle to her eye. Her red lips turned up in relief at his words, grateful that he hadn't turned his anger on her in anger and cast her back down into the dungeon to lock her away but it was gone as quickly as it had come. He could only watch as she picked herself back up off the ground and attended to the tea, going with two brown lumps of sugar and just a splash of cream in the undamaged cup. It was how she would have taken her tea if given the chance, but with the other cup now damaged, it seemed only her master would be having tea that morning.

"No, the other one." He instructed almost immediately as he had realized what her intent was. When she looked back up at him, question in her eyes, he felt the need to explain. "That one you've already made sticky with your clumsiness. I'd sooner cut my lip on a broken cup than have my fingers stick together the remainder of the day."

It was a silly reason, but Belle only hesitated for a moment before preparing the chipped cup the same way she had prepared the first and brought it to him. She gave him a small nod as he accepted the cup, feeling his fingers brushing up against hers for the briefest of moment in the exchange, surprised to find his skin warm to the touch, not at all cold and lifeless as she had come to expect. When he said nothing, only keeping his dead eyes on her, Belle retreated to the other side of the table where she picked up what was now to be considered her cup and raised it to her lips. She paused briefly when she noticed that Rumpelstiltskin hadn't even taken a sip of his yet, his eyes were still watching her though, almost as if he were waiting for her to take the first drink.

_Perhaps…_ she thought as she raised the brim of the cup to her lips, feeling the steam slowly warming up the tip of her frozen nose. _Perhaps there __**is**__ a gentleman in there… deep down somewhere…_

Just as she had thought, after taking the first sip Rumpelstiltskin raised his own cup to his lips, keeping his finger over the chipped surface as to not accidentally brush his lips over it and cut himself. He was finished with his tea far before she had, as it seemed that he was suddenly in a big hurry. Setting the empty cup down on the table, Rumpelstiltskin stood up and brushed the flaps of his dragon hide coat before clearing his throat and looking back to his caretaker.

"You can start with the rug. That stain won't be easy to get out, and the entire thing might as well be washed." He began. "And when you've finished with that, get yourself familiar with the kitchen. Lunch is to be served daily at precisely eleven-forty five, tea is to be served faithfully at two-fifteen and supper is to be had at exactly six." He paused to watch her, but found she had nothing left to say to him and only managed to bob her head up and down like an obedient child. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that now, had only one night in his dungeon given her enough reality to break her into submission so quickly? If it had, then she was far weaker in spirit than he had initially given her credit for. Dismissing the thought with a sort of snort through his nose, he simply turned his back and left the Dining Hall, the grand double doors of the entry opening up to him automatically as he approached. Upon the threshold, however, he stopped and turned, finding that her bright blue eyes were still upon him, though she shied away from his gaze straight away after he had turned.

"Oh, and uh, don't try to open any doors that are locked up tight. Trying to open them a second time will result in some… _nasty_ consequences."

Finding the news to upset her so that it was brought out in her gentle features, Rumpelstiltskin filled the Dining Hall with his childish giggle before walking through the threshold entirely and letting the double doors close quickly behind him.

**Author's Note:**

**Apologies again for not being able to post this one up sooner. Kind of difficult when one has no internet hmm? Anywho, let me know what you guys think about this chapter. Without much contact and interaction, it was a bit of a struggle to find things of relevance that would add to the story but I'm overall pretty damn happy with the chapter. Of course there is much more to be had in this story so long as you guys keep showing me your support! I appreciate each and every one of you!**


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